


Haunted House

by ReginaNocis



Series: Haunted House [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ghost Derek Hale, Happy Ending, I swear, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves, it all works out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 13:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaNocis/pseuds/ReginaNocis
Summary: Stiles moves into his first house after High School. It's small, but it's all he needs for himself. He definitely hadn't realized that it was already inhabited when he moved in. Not that it was going to stop him from living there, of course. He was nothing if not stubborn.Derek Hale had lived in the small house for nearly a decade now, and he'd been dead for over half of that. He'd been murdered eight years ago in that very house, and he would be damned if someone took it from him now.





	Haunted House

Stiles carried the last box inside and dropped it to wave to Scott as he drove away. He wasn't even surprised that his best friend was leaving without saying goodbye. He'd been warned that morning that he could be leaving at a moment's notice. Allison was having a bad day, or something. And since she was currently pregnant with twins, Scott was on call for anything she might want. Stiles was lucky he'd volunteered to help at all, what with Scott being so busy with nursing classes. He was very determined to follow in his mother's footsteps, even though she'd tried to talk him into becoming a doctor.

He looked around his new house curiously. It was small, but it was exactly what he'd been wanting for himself. There was one bedroom with an attached bathroom, a kitchen, and a sitting room. He didn't have the furniture he'd need for the sitting room, but he had a TV. It would have to be enough until he started getting paychecks from his job at the station. He started as a deputy on Monday.

It felt empty, which was not something that he was used to. Even just at his father's house, there was another living person. He spent most of his time with Scott and Allison, and they always had assorted friends over. Isaac and Lydia were almost always there, and Erica and Boyd showed up at least three times a week. He was only their friend by association, but they all got along well enough. Now, though... once the twins were born, he wasn't sure he'd be welcome whenever he wanted. It was why he'd gotten his own place; if he could get used to being on his own now, it wouldn't hurt as badly later when nobody would have the time or patience for him. He knew he was spastic.

He was carrying the final box to the bedroom when he heard a noise in the kitchen. It sounded like someone had bumped into boxes and moved them, but nobody was in the house with him. He was going to just shrug it off as him imagining things until he heard it a second time. Dropping the box onto the floor in the doorway of his bedroom, he went to investigate. He stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway to the kitchen. 

There was a man standing in the middle of the room, glaring at his stack of boxes in disgust as he tried to shove it over. As Stiles watched, the man made two attempts at which his hands _passed right through the boxes_ , before he gave a growl of frustration and tried a third time. His hands connected that time, but not with the force he'd clearly been trying to put into it. The boxes moved about three inches and shook, but did not fall over. The man growled again, clearly outraged.

"Dude. What the hell?" Stiles heard himself ask, though he hadn't meant to. His mouth had a mind of it's own sometimes. The man's head whipped towards him in surprise, but the glare hadn't faded. Stiles had never seen someone quite this angry.

"I could ask you the same question. Who said you could move in here? This is  _my_ house," the man shot back. 

"Uh, the realtor told me I could move in here, actually. Nobody has lived here in the last eight years for more than a couple of weeks, and she couldn't tell me why," Stiles informed him. It was true; Erica had been his realtor, and she really couldn't explain why nobody wanted to stay here. It was a nice house.

"Those people realized that the house is already taken," the man growled. "They respected that. Why don't you?"

"Because it's my house now," Stiles said simply. "I paid for it, and I'm not leaving. I suggest you leave, before I call the cops." 

The man didn't budge, so Stiles looked down to pull his phone out of his pocket to call his dad. When he looked up, however, the man had disappeared. Stiles hadn't heard him leave, but he also hadn't heard him come in. He ignored the only thought he had on the subject, because ghosts were not actually real. He decided to just pretend that it had never happened, and went back to unpacking.

It wasn't until that night that he realized he couldn't explain away the man's hands passing through his boxes. Nothing human could do that, and the X-Men weren't actually real. He'd almost dialed Scott's number, before remembering that he went to bed at an insanely early time now that he was in college. So instead, he called Lydia. He was pretty sure she wouldn't be too annoyed with him.

"What, Stiles?" she demanded in place of a greeting. So maybe she would be annoyed.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" he asked, deciding to press his luck.

"Why would I believe in ghosts? There's no proof to support it, and I've never seen one with my own eyes," she replied. At least she didn't sound angry, and she wasn't calling him crazy. It wasn't the weirdest conversation they'd ever had.

"Let's say, for argument's sake, that I saw one today. What would your reaction be?" he asked.

"I'd tell you to get your head examined. But since we both know you're not actually crazy, I'd be inclined to believe you. Providing you took your Adderall this morning, of course," she told him. "Why are we discussing ghosts?"

He genuinely couldn't remember if he'd taken Adderall that morning, but he was going to say that he had no matter what. He knew he hadn't imagined that man, and ghost was the only thing that made sense. And yes, he was aware that it made him sound crazy. "Because I saw one today, and I don't want to believe that I've finally lost it."

"Tell me about this ghost. Was it a man or a woman? How old were they? What did they do? Could they speak?" He should have known that she'd have a million questions for him before she'd take him at his word.

"It was a man, and he was very angry. He didn't look that much older than us. He was trying to knock over my boxes, but his hands went right through them. He could barely move them, and that was only when he completely lost his temper. Yes, he could speak. He told me that this was his house, and he'd been chasing off anyone who tried to move in. And I basically told him I wasn't going to leave, and would call the cops if he didn't," Stiles told her.

"That... sounds like you," Lydia sighed. "And he disappeared when you pulled out your phone?" 

"Yeah. How did you know?" he asked, confused.

"Because that's how most ghost novels starts, Stiles. A family moves into a new home, the spirit that lives there is angry and tries to run them off, and they eventually either come to an understanding or the ghost gets exercised," she informed him. "You're nervous about living on your own, and your mind is coping in a way that it can handle. You're seeing things."

"Lydia, don't you think I'd know if I were seeing things?" he asked, frustrated. "You know what happened with my mother. You don't think I would have researched and considered every other option before coming to this conclusion and calling you?"

"I'm sorry," she said softly. It sounded like she meant it, too, which was a first. "If you really believe you've seen a ghost, Isaac and I will come over in the morning and help you figure it out."

It was more than he'd hoped for. He wasn't sure she'd believe him when he'd called. He still wasn't sure that she actually believed, but it was better than her telling him he was crazy and hanging up on him. He'd take it. "Thank you, Lydia. You won't regret it, I promise." 

"Yeah, we'll see. But this is what friends are for, right? I know you'd do the same for me," she told him. He could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him smile, too. If someone had told him three years ago that this would be his life, he'd have laughed in their face. Of course, three years ago was when he was still in love with her and fighting with Isaac for her attention. He had no regrets at all that Isaac had won, though he'd been furious when it had first happened. Now, he held no illusions that he was straight. Lydia was an amazing person, but he was much more interested in dating men. He also hadn't realized that she'd actually considered him a friend. It was an exciting discovery.

"Definitely," he agreed. "Any time you need it." 

"I will eventually take you up on that," she informed him lightly. "Goodnight, Stiles. Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He couldn't sleep, of course. The house was making strange noises, and he'd blame it on his ghost if his father's house hadn't made exactly the same noises. It should have been comforting, but it just felt... empty. He tossed and turned for a few hours before he gave up and went out to the kitchen. Of course, the ghost was leaning against the counter and glaring at his boxes again. The glare turned to him as he made his way to the sink to get some water.

"Look, dude, I get that you don't want me here. Try to understand that I don't care. I'm staying, and nothing you do is going to change that," Stiles told him. "So if you're planning on staying too, get used to me. I'm Stiles."

"That's not a real name," the man pointed out, still glaring. Stiles stared at him pointedly until he rolled his eyes and gave in. "My name is Derek."

"Nice to meet you, Derek. Want to tell me why you're so against me being here?" Stiles asked. Derek stayed silent for a few minutes, and Stiles didn't push it. It felt nice to have him there, for the time being. He really did hate being alone.

"My sister and I bought this house together. I... died saving her life," Derek admitted. "When I woke up in this room, she was gone. I don't know if she made it out alive or not. It just doesn't feel like anything has changed. I don't like other people being here, because she's less likely to come back if someone is living here."

"That makes sense," Stiles said after a few more seconds of silence. It did, too. "If you give me her name, I can look it up and tell you if she's still alive or not. I can even try to contact her for you."

"No," Derek growled. The glare was back. "I don't trust you. You might have been involved in the break-in, for all I know. Maybe she got away and you're trying to track her down again."

"You don't really believe that," Stiles snorted. "Do I look like the kind of person who could kill someone? By accident, maybe, because I'm that clumsy. But intentionally?"

"No," Derek grudgingly admitted. "But I'm not giving you anymore information."

"That's fine, dude. But hey, I have friends coming over in the morning to confirm that I'm not crazy. Think you could make an appearance, so I know I'm not losing my mind?" Stiles requested. "It would be greatly appreciated."

"No," Derek snapped, and then he disappeared. Like, he was there one second, then Stiles blinked and he was gone.

Stiles finished his water and went back to bed. The house didn't feel quite as empty, and he managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. He slept until morning, when his phone woke him up. It was Isaac, which meant that he should be getting up and getting dressed. He and Isaac had worked out an agreement in which Isaac would call him at least five minutes before he and Lydia were going to arrive, so that they could all be prepared. Lydia had a habit of just arriving with no warning, because she felt entitled to make an entrance.

"You might want to get dressed, if you aren't. She's buying coffee right now, yours included, and then we'll be there," Isaac told him when he answered.

"Thanks," Stiles sighed. "And tell her I say thanks for the caffeine."

"I think it's more so that she doesn't kill you in the first ten minutes," Isaac admitted. "You're kind of unbearable in the mornings."

"Gee, thanks," Stiles said sarcastically. Isaac laughed, and he rolled his eyes. "See you in a minute."

"Yeah, okay," Isaac replied before hanging up. Stiles was still smiling to himself as he got dressed and headed out to the kitchen to unpack plates for the sandwiches he planned to make them for lunch. He wasn't surprised that Derek wasn't there, but he could practically feel his presence in the house now. He was still thinking about that when Lydia knocked on his front door. He let them in with a bright smile.

"Welcome to my home," he told them, waving his arm to welcome them inside. He watched them look around, nervous about what they would think. Neither of them had been with him when he'd chosen it, and only Erica had seen the full house. And that was only because she'd sold it to him. Scott hadn't even been inside for more than a few seconds to set boxes down.

"It's nice. I think it's perfect for you," Lydia told him softly. "But what about when you start dating? Will it be enough room for two?"

"When is the last time Stiles had a date?" Isaac asked, but he was smiling. This was the kind of teasing that Stiles could handle. 

"It's been a while," he admitted, smiling back. "Two years, I think. Danny is my last ex, so however long he's been with Jackson... that's how long it's been."

"That's sad," Isaac told him. Lydia smacked his arm and he frowned sheepishly. "Well, it is. There are plenty of men out there who want to date you, Stiles. I don't know why you're not going for any of them."

"Because they aren't the right person," he shrugged. "I'm holding out for the person I'm really meant to be with. I don't want another fling. As fun as it was with Danny, I'm ready to grow up now."

"And that's why this ghost thing troubles me," Lydia told him. "You've been sane so far, and you're growing up. Where did the ghost idea come from?"

"I thought you believed me," Stiles said, wounded. 

"I do... mostly. I believe that you believe it, and that makes it real. I'm here to help you find out the truth, either way. I've been doing some reading since you called me, and I think the best way is to just look around and see if there are any signs. There should be cold spots, shadows that shouldn't exist, things like that," Lydia replied. Isaac rolled his eyes.

"She didn't want to go to bed last night because she was so interested in her articles. I blame you," he told him. Stiles grinned, touched that Lydia cared that much.

"Well, I don't think he's going to show himself. He was pretty against it last night," Stiles told them.

"You've seen him since you called me?" Lydia asked, interest sparking in her eyes. "And got his name, apparently. Did you try looking him up?"

"No... he really didn't want me to know about him. He told me how he died, said that he's got a sister that he saved with his dying breath. But he wouldn't give me her name, in case she's still alive. He doesn't trust me," Stiles told her. She nodded.

"That's interesting. That could be his unfinished business. Maybe seeing his sister again could let him move on?" she pressed. Stiles didn't like thinking about that, because it would mean his house would be empty again.

"We can walk through the house and find the other things. I can feel his presence, you know?" He was hoping Lydia would just understand what he meant, and he wasn't disappointed. He did wish that she couldn't read him so easily, though, because she understood  _all_ of what he was feeling.

"I knew you were going to have trouble being alone. If nothing else, I'm glad you don't feel that way," she said softly. She even gave him a hug before she started exploring his house. Isaac stayed with Stiles, still annoyed about the whole thing.

"You know, if you wanted us to come over, you didn't have to make up a dead person. You could have just texted," he said quietly. Stiles knew he just didn't want to let Lydia hear him.

"I didn't make up anything," Stiles huffed. "Derek is a real person who is dead and still living in this house."

"You know you just contradicted yourself, right?" Isaac pointed out. "He can't be dead and living."

"You know what I meant," Stiles rolled his eyes. He was starting to remember why he used to hate Isaac. At the same time that they'd fought over Lydia, Scott had decided that Isaac was the best thing to happen to Beacon Hills since Allison. Stiles had felt like a third wheel for months while Scott split his time between Allison and Isaac, hardly even texting Stiles to cancel plans. He'd let go of the bitterness a long time ago, but sometimes Isaac made it hard to like him.

"Sure. Doesn't mean much, though. Look, I get it. I grew up without anyone else, even when my father was in the house with me. I know how it feels to be alone. And I used to have imaginary friends, too. But I never believed they were real, Stiles," Isaac told him. He sounded sympathetic, but his words cut into Stiles like a sword. 

"You think I imagined Derek because I was lonely?" he clarified, proud that his voice was steady. He was hurt and angry, which was never a good combination.

"Well, yeah," Isaac agreed. "It's not like ghosts are real, which you  _know."_

Stiles took a few deep breaths before he even tried to reply, but he never got the chance. The boxes beside Isaac fell with a loud crash, making him jump backwards in shock. The door to the kitchen slammed closed, followed quickly by the bedroom. Stiles could hear Lydia jiggling the doorknob, but it must have been stuck. More boxes fell, followed by a picture frame that Stiles had put out in the attempt to make it look like a home. Stiles stared around with wide eyes, not understanding why Derek was so angry now, of all times. 

"What the hell?" Isaac shouted, alarmed. Stiles turned to look at him and froze. Derek was standing right in front of Isaac, glaring as angrily as he had the first time Stiles had ever seen him.

"Do you still think I'm imaginary?" Derek demanded. He disappeared before Isaac could answer, and Stiles heard the bedroom door crash open to let Lydia out. She came running down the hallway to find the, smiling excitedly.

"You're not crazy!" she told him, throwing her arms around him.

"I didn't know that was in question," he grumbled, but he returned the hug without hesitation. "Look, I know that it was a hard thing to accept, but why would I lie or make that up? If I was lonely, I would have just gone to Scott's."

"I know that, Stiles. I only briefly considered that you'd lost your mind, because you have to admit that ghosts are not widely believed in," she reassured him. "But I've known you for years, and I've never known you to make things up for attention. And we both know you've been tested multiple times for insanity... among other things."

"Gee, thanks," he told her, but he was smiling. Isaac still hadn't spoken, but Stiles could feel his staring. He let go of Lydia to turn and check on him, and found that he was still in shock. "Isaac, you good?"

"I... I'm sorry, Stiles. I really didn't believe you, and I should have," Isaac said quietly. Lydia gave him a confused look, and he shrugged sheepishly. "I thought he made an imaginary friend. It made more sense to me than a ghost. But... I have now seen his ghost."

"My best guess is that Derek didn't like being called imaginary," Stiles added. "I can't think of another reason he'd show himself when he told me no."

Lydia gave him an assessing look that he knew meant that she suspected something and wasn't going to tell him until it was confirmed. "Well, looks like we found what we were looking for, then. So, what do you want to do about it? Do you want to get rid of him?"

"No!" Stiles said, louder than he'd meant to. The bedroom door slammed again at almost the same time, letting them know that Derek was still listening and not happy about it. "No, he's not actually hurting anything by being here. And it was his house first. I'm not leaving, but I can't reasonably ask him to leave, either."

Lydia rolled her eyes fondly. "You could, but you're you. If you weren't gay..." She smiled fondly at Isaac's annoyed sound. "If you don't want to get rid of him, then you're going to have to talk to him about boundaries and learn to coexist."

"Yeah... that should be fun. He doesn't really like talking to me," Stiles sighed. 

"And yet, he defended you to Isaac," Lydia said quietly, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "We need to be going, but you know I'm only a phone call away. You should tell Scott about this."

"Yeah... but it's not like he's going to believe me, either," Stiles side. Lydia smacked the back of his head just hard enough to get her point across. "Okay, okay! I'll tell him today."

"We'll back you up, Stiles," Isaac assured him. His attitude about Derek had completely changed since he'd seen him. He also seemed to know exactly what Lydia thought about it.

They left right after that, not lingering in the clearly haunted house. Stiles didn't go looking for Derek, because he knew the ghost would find him when he was ready. Instead, he pulled his phone out and sent a few texts.

**_To: Scott_ **

**_You and I need to talk today._ **

**_To: Dad_ **

**_I'm all moved in and adjusting nicely. You better be eating green things. Frosting doesn't count._ **

**_To: Erica_ **

**_You sold me a haunted house. Some Catwoman you are._ **

By the time he'd finished, Derek was in the room with him. He wasn't glaring this time, which was a nice change. Instead, he looked almost sheepish. Stiles smiled warmly at him, waiting for him to speak first. 

"I'm sorry that I scared your friend. I forget sometimes that things happen when I'm angry, now," Derek admitted quietly. 

"It's okay. Isaac deserves a good scare sometimes, for being a jerk. The slamming maybe was a bit much, though. He grew up in an abusive home, and he still gets panic attacks in small spaces and for loud sounds," Stiles told him.

"I didn't realize. He seems so well put together for an abuse victim," Derek replied.

"Don't we all?" Stiles asked bitterly. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. Just... don't judge a book by it's cover, as the popular saying goes."

"You were abused?" Derek asked, ignoring tact completely.

"I had a boyfriend that I never told my friends about. His name is Matt. He was still pretty far in the closet, and ashamed to be dating me. He used to plan our dates around times that his parents weren't home, and he got pretty violent the few times I tried to suggest that he come out to his family or friends. Eventually, I stopped being able to explain the bruises, and I told my dad. There's a restraining order now, and everything," Stiles explained.

"He sounds like a real winner," Derek frowned. "Why did you date him in the first place?"

"It's not like there are a lot of options for gay men in Beacon Hills. My friend Danny and I had our fling, but we were better off as friends. When Matt asked me out, I jumped at the chance. I haven't dated since," Stiles shrugged. "What about you? Any good ex stories?"

"My second ex tried to burn my family's house down. It's why we broke up. My uncle, Peter, died in the fire. The rest of us made it out, but only just. The last I knew, Kate was in prison," Derek told him. "And the very next woman I dated sabotaged our birth control to get pregnant so she could sacrifice the child. Thankfully, she didn't end up pregnant."

"Did she go to jail, too?" Stiles asked, interested.

"No. But I think she's in a group home for the criminally insane," Derek replied. Stiles grinned. "It's not that funny."

"It kind of is. We have equally bad taste in partners. Hey, look, it's something in common besides the house!" Stiles said, still grinning. Derek almost smiled back, before he seemed to remember himself.

"Maybe. About the house... I'll stop trying to run you out. Your friend was right, we should be able to share. We're both adults," Derek replied.

"Yeah, totally. Should we lay down some ground rules?" Stiles asked. He was all for being friends with the ghost who lived in his house.

"I'm not going to watch you while you shower or sleep," Derek assured him dryly. "And I'm not going to interrupt you while you have friends over, or whatever. I just ask that you let me have my privacy, and don't look me up."

"I can't promise that Lydia won't," Stiles warned him. 

"I don't live with Lydia, so I don't care what she does. I just... if you're going to learn about my life at some point, I'd rather it be because I choose to tell you. Just because I died doesn't mean I don't deserve privacy," Derek told him. 

"Yeah, I get that. Alright, deal. I won't look you up, and I won't let Lydia tell me anything when she inevitably does," Stiles agreed. Derek really did smile, then. It lit up his whole face, and Stiles' breath caught in his throat. Oh, he was in trouble. He wasn't supposed to like his  _dead_ roommate. Lydia was going to kill him.

 

 

Stiles didn't get to talk to Scott until the next day, because Allison was having false contractions. They'd spent most of their day in the hospital after Scott had left Stiles, and hadn't bothered to tell Stiles until they'd gotten home that night. Not that Stiles would have rushed to the hospital, given his ghost situation, but it would have been nice to know. He'd gotten used to that treatment since Scott had started dating Allison. When he finally got ahold of Scott to invite him over, Scott had immediately changed the plans on him.

"Can we go out to eat instead? Allison is on a health kick, and I would kill for a burger. Just... maybe don't tell her?" Scott asked, sounding sheepish. And since Stiles had not been able to successfully tell Scott no since they were children, he agreed.

"Fine. Meet me at the diner in an hour, okay? I have something really important and weird to discuss with you," he replied. He managed to keep the annoyance out of his voice, which was good. He didn't want to be fighting with Scott.

"Awesome. I'll be there," Scott assured him.

Scott was twenty minutes late, but he did show up, which was something. He flopped down across from Stiles exaggeratedly, like it was a hardship for him to be there. That was why Stiles rarely tried to talk to Scott alone, anymore. 

"So, what did you need to tell me?" Scott asked. He didn't even look at the menu, ordering from memory before Stiles could start talking. He waited as patiently as he could for Scott to finish before speaking.

"Dude, my house is haunted. The ghost's name is Derek, and he's kind of a jerk. It's cool, though, because we talked it out. I'm staying out of his way and he's staying out of mine," Stiles told him.

"Did you take your Adderall today?" Scott asked, looking at him worriedly. Stiles practically growled in frustration.

"Why do people keep asking me that? Yes, I took my medication! I'm not imagining this, and I'm not crazy. Call Isaac and ask. He saw Derek, too. Hell, ask Lydia, she was there. This is not something that I'm making up. Ghosts are apparently very real," Stiles practically exploded. Scott held his hands up in resignation, trying to get Stiles to calm down.

"Alright, fine, I believe you. So... ghosts, huh?" he asked hesitantly. "What all does that involve?"

"He just... goes through almost everything. He can apparently slam doors with his anger, and he can appear and disappear as he likes. He keeps trying to knock my things over, and he scared Isaac pretty good when they came over yesterday," Stiles told him.

"You had Isaac over before me?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow. Stiles glared at him until he looked down. "Sorry, not the point. I just didn't think you even liked Isaac."

"I called Lydia, and you know they're attached at the hip," Stiles told him. "I don't dislike Isaac, he's just not my favorite person. I didn't want to bother you, because you've got classes in the mornings and it was pretty late when I called Lydia."

"Dude, you're more important than school," Scott told him, looking wounded. 

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like it," Stiles admitted quietly, looking down at the shake he'd ordered. "It's okay, though. It's the rest of your life, and I get that. I'm not actually mad at you. I was trying to be a good friend by not calling you. And none of that was the point. Ghosts!"

"Yeah... that's really weird. What are you going to tell me next, vampires are real?" Scott asked, grinning to show that he was kidding.

"I really hope not," Stiles shivered. "That would be too much, even for me."

"Don't lie. You would love it if you knew more supernatural things existed. It's the world you've always wanted to be a part of," Scott reminded him.

"Yeah..." Stiles sighed wistfully. "If only."

 

 

Weeks went by in which Stiles and Derek shared space quietly and without incidents. No more arguments, but very few interactions. Derek seemed content to let Stiles live his life with little input, and Stiles was back to feeling lonely. It was easier at night, when he knew Derek spent time in the kitchen. He knew that if he walked out there, he'd see Derek leaning against the counter just looking out of the window. Some nights, when he had nightmares and couldn't sleep, he went out and joined him. They never spoke, just silently looked out of the window together.

Derek had gotten better at moving and touching things over time and practice, too. Some mornings Stiles would wake up and find his dishes were washed and arranged overnight. There was almost always a note taped to the fridge telling him to have a good day, or to be less annoying when he cleaned. It was exactly like living with his dad, without the occasional dinners together. 

Then, one day, his father ended up in the hospital. Stiles got the call while he was on his way to the station, and he made it to the hospital in record time. He called Scott from the waiting room, and the whole gang was there within twenty minutes to keep him company. 

"Dude, only your dad could manage to get himself shot when he wasn't even on duty," Isaac told him, bumping their shoulders together conspiratorially. 

"I know. He says the kid was playing in the street with the gun, but I'm betting money it was his neighbor. That kid is a demon in disguise. He probably saw the kid through the window and went over to try to stop him," Stiles groaned. "I would not be surprised at all. And because my father is a nice man, he's going to say that the kid had no idea what he was doing, and was, in fact, in the street."

"I admire your dad's guts," Scott told him. Allison nodded in agreement.

"My dad is an arms dealer, and even he wouldn't try to take a gun from someone without being armed himself. Your dad didn't even have his gun on him," she agreed.

"Because he is a freaking saint," Stiles grumbled. "But it just means that now he's injured and I have to go stay with him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself worse. Because he totally would."

"He's stubborn like that," Erica nodded. "But who will stay with Derek?"

"He's wanted to be alone in the house all along. I'm sure he'll enjoy the time to himself," Stiles shrugged. "It's not like we even talk. I haven't even seen him in days." 

He really hadn't. Stiles had been sleeping fine that week, so his only communication with Derek had been the notes that he'd left on the fridge. The one that morning had only been two sentences.

_Your taste in books is as bad as your taste in men. Don't die today._

He'd really wanted to leave a note in its place informing him that he'd just insulted himself, but decided that flirting with a ghost was something he wasn't going to do. Instead he'd smiled fondly and left with the book he knew Derek had been reading, just to irritate him. He fully intended to rub it in Derek's face when he complained.

"You know he'll worry," Lydia said sweetly, giving him a knowing look. She was the only one that Stiles was certain had caught onto his little crush. 

"I really doubt it," Stiles told her. He was saved from more conversation about Derek by the doctor, who came out to tell him that his father was going to be just fine, but would have strict restrictions on what he could and could not do. 

It was almost a full week later before Stiles managed to go home for even a few minutes, and it was to find Derek pacing in the kitchen. His head visibly snapped up when he heard the door close, and he appeared in front of Stiles in an instant. Stiles jumped back in surprise, not expecting to even see Derek.

"Stiles," was all he said, an unreadable expression on his face. 

"Oh, hey. Did you miss me?" Stiles asked, smiling when he'd recovered from his surprise. "I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but my father is needy when he's injured."

"I thought you were dead," Derek said quietly. Stiles blinked in surprise before realizing that of course Derek wouldn't know what had happened. He vaguely remembered someone telling him he should call his house or something, but he'd waved it off and had forgotten to do it.

"No, I'm fine. My father got shot, but he's fine too. I've been staying with him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself worse," Stiles explained. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Derek's expression closed off, and he didn't reply right away. Clearly, Stiles had done something wrong by not letting him know that he was okay. Stiles just wasn't sure what it was that he'd done. They weren't even really friends, and he knew the attraction was one-sided. Maybe it was a curtesy thing.

"It's fine," Derek said shortly, and then he disappeared. Stiles didn't see him again as he packed a bag with a few more days worth of clothes for his father's house. 

"I'll be back in a few days!" He called out before he left again. He was hoping that everything would be okay, but he wasn't really sure what was wrong in the first place. He locked the door behind him, knowing that Derek wouldn't be leaving the house anyways.

His dad was waiting for him on the couch when he got home, and he noticed his frustration immediately. "What's wrong, son?" he called, patting the couch beside him. Stiles went in and sat down, only because he knew his father would bring it up until he'd gotten an explanation.

"My friend was mad that I hadn't told him what happened. We had a fight," Stiles admitted. He didn't want to tell his father about the ghost, knowing that he wouldn't believe him. He didn't think he could handle another person asking him about his Adderall, especially not his father.

"I see. And is this person someone you were hoping to turn into more than just a friend?" his father asked casually. Stiles' blush gave him away. "So you're worried that he'll hold this grudge and not want to be with you."

"It's complicated. We couldn't be together anyways. He doesn't see me that way," Stiles said quietly. His father frowned. 

"Then he's an idiot. Anyone would be lucky to have you," he told Stiles. Stiles smiled sadly. 

"The real world doesn't work that way, Dad. He's only ever dated women, and if he's interested in men, then he's too far back in the closet for me," Stiles replied.

"You'll find the right person, Stiles," his father assured him. "Don't be in a hurry, just let it happen. And if this friend doesn't get over the fact that you got too distracted to tell him what happened, then he was never your friend to begin with."

"Yeah, maybe," Stiles agreed, but he didn't really believe that. He'd seen how worried Derek had been. It went deeper than that, he was sure.

 

 

When he came back to his house, after his father had been taken off of his restrictions, it was eerily quiet. Derek wasn't waiting for him this time, and he didn't show up that entire day. More days went by with nothing, not even a note. Stiles found himself talking out loud, acting like Derek was listening even though he wasn't there.

"Erica called me at work today to tell me that there was a woman asking if this house was still on the market. When she told her it was sold, she hung up on her. Can you believe the nerve of some people?"

"My father is back at work today. He tried sneaking a donut and just looked resigned when I smacked it out of his hand instead of angry. That's progress."

"Allison went into labor this morning. Scott is going to call me when she gives birth. I guess her aunt showed up in town a few days ago, just in time for the birth. I haven't met her yet, but I've heard plenty of stories about her brand of crazy. There's a rumor that she spent time in prison for something, but Allison didn't confirm it."

There was never an answer, of course. Stiles started to truly believe that Derek had moved on, and he was surprised by how upset that made him. After two weeks of complete silence, Stiles gave up. He stopped talking when he was home, and he stopped going to Scott's house after the twins were born. He spent most of his time either in his bedroom reading, or in his single chair in the sitting room to watch TV. He only watched the shows and movies that he thought Derek would enjoy, too. 

And then, one fateful night, there was noise in the kitchen that shouldn't have been there. Stiles didn't dare hope that it was Derek, but he practically jumped out of bed to investigate. He didn't bother to grab his baseball bat, either. It was unusually dark in the kitchen, but he could make out a silhouette leaning against the counter. It wasn't until he'd reached over to turn the light on that he realized it was too small to be Derek.

"I was wondering if you were going to come out here," a woman told him, smirking. She held a gun in her hand, but her arms were crossed and it wasn't aimed at him. "I thought I was going to have to come find you."

"Who are you?" Stiles demanded, staying in the doorway. He'd left his phone in his bedroom, which meant he couldn't even call for back-up. He knew better than to make a wrong move when a gun was involved, though.

"I could ask you the same question. I came prepare for Laura, only to find out she'd sold the house to some scrawny kid who is barely old enough to live on his own," she shot back. "Of course, you're a witness now."

"A witness to what exactly? You breaking into my house at gunpoint? Yeah. It's really not wise to break into a cop's house, you know?" he shot back, eyeing her warily. If she was trigger-happy, this would not end well.

"Let's not pretend that you didn't meet Derek. I know he's still here. I've been watching the house for over a week. I really thought that wolfsbane would kill him, too. Oh well, I can fix that tonight, too. I have a new kind of wolfsbane that should do the job nicely," she ranted. She wasn't really paying attention to Stiles anymore, and he was almost certain she was completely crazy at that point. "Derek! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Or I'll shoot your little friend, here."

Derek appeared beside Stiles, a pained look in his eyes but his expression blank otherwise. "Kate. I thought you were in prison," he said quietly.

"I didn't really like it there. They didn't treat me right. I thought I'd come back and finish what I started, after I met my nephews. They're really adorable, you know?" she grinned. "Not little beasts, unlike you."

"You're Allison's aunt," Stiles realized out loud. "The one who's crazy. I have yet to hear a good thing about you, and I can see why now."

"Aren't you nice," Kate practically growled. "Tell me, did Derek ever mention the fact that he's the monster in this story? He's a werewolf, kid. A bloodthirsty monster who would happily kill you if he could. I thought I'd killed him, first, but I have to finish the job."

"You're crazy," Stiles repeated. He glanced over at Derek, who refused to meet his gaze. And huh, so werewolves were as much of a real thing as ghosts. He'd deal with that fact later. "Look, lady, so maybe Derek is a werewolf. That doesn't mean he's a monster. He's a nicer person than you are, for sure. The only monster I see here is you."

"Well, Derek, it looks like you get to see your little human die before you," Kate snarled, raising the gun. 

Everything happened very quickly. The gun was fired, that much Stiles knew. He felt pain as he was shoved out of the way, rebounding off of the doorway and onto the floor. The bullet had missed him but hit a target; Derek. Stiles wasn't sure how that had worked, since Derek was a ghost and wasn't actually corporeal. He heard Kates outraged cry as Derek started glowing brightly, and he was still standing there when the glow faded, only...

Derek wasn't a ghost anymore. When he'd been a ghost, it had been hard to see his outline. It was like he was a part of the air around him. Now, he was very obviously there and angry. His eyes glowed a bright blue as he literally growled at Kate. Stiles must have lost consciousness for a little bit, because the next thing he remembered was Derek kneeling in front of him, calling for him to wake up in a panicked voice.

"D-rek?" Stiles asked groggily, his vision swimming. 

"Stiles, you have a concussion. You need to stay with me, okay? I need you to focus on me," Derek told him. He sounded scared, like he wasn't sure what would happen to Stiles if he lost consciousness. It was nice.

"Didn't know you cared," Stiles heard himself mumble. Derek growled again, and Stiles pried his eyes open when he felt Derek's hand on his cheek.

"You idiot," Derek snarled. And then they were kissing, and it was everything that Stiles had been wanting this whole time. It was over too quickly, probably because Derek was scared of hurting Stiles in his fragile state. He could hear sirens, but he had no idea how they'd known to come. His neighbor must have heard the gun. "Stay with me, Stiles."

"-'m not goin' anywhere," Stiles told him, but his vision was swimming again. He knew he was going to lose consciousness again very soon. He managed to hold out until they were loading him into the back of the ambulance, and the last thing he heard was Derek shouting his name as he drifted off.

 

 

He woke up alone in the hospital room, to the beeping machines and itchy IV.  He could hear arguing in the hallway, and he recognized his father's voice above all of the others. He was still disoriented, but he knew he didn't want to be alone, so he pressed the call button. He knew that would get all of their attention. Within seconds, his father and Scott were inside of the room. They were both looking at him worriedly, like he was going to pass out again.

"Relax, I feel fine. Well, I have a headache. Other than that, I'm fine," Stiles assured him.

"Stiles... Derek is here," Scott told him with wide eyes. Stiles grinned. "No, I don't think you understand. He's  _here. Alive."_

"I know. I'm glad I didn't imagine all of that. I would have been severely disappointed. I promise I'll explain everything when I'm not in the hospital. Can I see him?" Stiles asked. He couldn't hide his excitement. If Derek was really here, that meant it had  _all_ happened, including their kiss.

"Family only," his father said gruffly, frowning. Stiles sent a pointed look at Scott and his father sighed in frustration. "You get ten minutes, kid. And then you need to rest."

"We both know that everyone in that waiting room is going to demand to see me before visiting hours are up," Stiles said with glee. Maybe he was still a child, with all of the joy he was getting out of annoying his father.

Derek was waiting just outside of the door when Scott opened it, as if he'd known they were talking about him. Stiles wondered if he'd heard them talking, but decided that would be a question for later. He couldn't wait to learn the truth about werewolves. His father and Scott left the alone, but his father left the door cracked open with a pointed look. Clearly he'd recognized that Stiles very much liked Derek as more than a friend.

"Hey," he said as calmly as he could manage. "So that happened."

"Did you think it didn't?" Derek asked. He was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he thought that Stiles was going to kick him out at any second. 

"Honestly? This is a stretch even for me. You were dead and then you weren't, and now you're a werewolf?" Stiles asked, but he was smiling. Derek relaxed when he saw that Stiles wasn't upset with him. 

"You're friends with a banshee, you're surprised that I'm a werewolf?" Derek shot back. He frowned at Stiles' blank look. "The redhead, Lydia. You genuinely didn't know?" 

"I'm not really surprised... but no, I didn't know. I don't think she knows, either. How did you?" Stiles asked.

"I could smell it, as soon as I saw her tonight. I couldn't tell when I was... you know. But now that I'm back to normal, I can tell a lot of things. I may have scared your friend Isaac pretty badly. He almost passed out when he saw me pacing in the waiting room. Since he was the only one who had seen me, he had to explain who I was to everyone else. I was... otherwise occupied," Derek explained.

"Which means worried out of your mind?" Stiles clarified. Derek actually blushed when he nodded. "Where have you been for the last couple of weeks? I thought you'd moved on!"

"Now you know how I felt when you disappeared," Derek said grimly. "I could only imagine the worst things, because I had no idea where you had gone or what you were doing. I thought Matt had caught up to you, or you'd been killed in a car accident. I hated that the last thing I'd said to you was criticizing your books."

"I thought it was cute. I almost replied back that you were insulting yourself," Stiles admitted, sure that he was also blushing. Derek smiled, sitting in the chair beside the hospital bed. He took Stiles' hand hesitantly, like he wasn't sure he'd been allowed.

"How are you not mad at me? I didn't tell you who or what I was, and I'm the reason Kate showed up," Derek reminded him. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Actually, Kate was looking for Laura. And with all the added information, I know exactly who you are, Derek Hale. The Hale fire was my father's first case as sheriff. I only didn't recognize you because it was over ten years ago and you don't look anything like your younger self," Stiles informed him. "Also, you were never officially declared dead, you'll be happy to know. Your sister reported you as missing, kidnapped. The report she gave claimed that she'd been knocked out by the person who broke in, and you were gone when she woke up. When a couple months went by and there was no sign of you, she moved out of Beacon Hills. She only came back a few times, each time Erica tried to sell the house. I met her."

"Laura is alive?" Derek asked, his eyes wide. Stiles wasn't really surprised that it was all he'd taken from the story.

"Yes. And I'm going to guess what happened after you were shot the first time. You said you died saving her? I'm guessing the bullet was meant for unconscious Laura, and when it hit you and you disappeared instead of dying, it spooked Kate. She fled, and when she came back Laura was gone, too. By the time she realized you weren't really gone, it was too late. The police caught up to her and she went to prison for the fire. The timelines add up," Stiles told him.

"I need to find Laura," Derek muttered. 

"And I'll help you. But I need to get out of here, first. Can we focus on one day at a time? Erica has her contact information in case I didn't work out for the house. It won't be hard to track her down," Stiles assured him. "Please don't disappear on me again."

"I'm not going anywhere," Derek quoted him, grinning. 

 

 

Derek had been avoiding Allison since they'd left the hospital. Kate had been arrested for the second time, while Stiles had been on his way to the hospital, and Allison felt responsible for all of it. She claimed that Kate had only come back to Beacon Hills because she was about to have the twins. She wouldn't listen when Stiles tried to tell her what really happened. 

Erica had given Stiles Laura Hale's number, and he'd called her the very next morning. She'd gotten on the first plane to California, and was going to be arriving at any time. He hadn't told Derek that he'd done it. Derek deserved a good surprise after all of the shit he'd gone through. 

Since he'd been 'dead' for eight years, he didn't really own anything. Stiles refused to let him even think about moving out, however. He claimed that there was plenty of room for both of them in that house, since they'd made it work for several months before he'd come back to life. Derek grudgingly agreed, and Stiles tried not to be hurt by how much he didn't seem to like the idea of living together as a couple. 

Derek was brooding in the bedroom when Laura knocked on the door. Since he'd been brought back to the land of the living, Derek's werewolf senses weren't a full strength, so he didn't suspect anything out of the ordinary. Stiles opened the door with a wide smile.

"He's not expecting you. I'm hoping you can pull him out of his brooding. He never seems to be happy, not since I got home from the hospital. I'm trying not to be offended," Stiles told her as he let her inside.

"I'm betting he feels guilty," she said quietly. "He dated Kate for a long time before she tried to kill us all. She'd been picking us off one by one since the fire, did Derek tell you? She got our father first, and then our brother, Mark. I was her next target, but I don't think she expected Derek to be here."

"She's a piece of work," Stiles agreed. "I didn't know she'd killed more than your uncle, I'm sorry. I'm really glad she didn't kill Derek."

"When did the two of you start dating?" Laura asked with a smile. Stiles felt himself blushing as he answered.

"Technically... we're not. We've kissed a couple of times, but we never discussed a relationship," he told her.

"That's just his guilt. Give him a few more days, and you bring it up if he doesn't," she instructed. Then she raised her voice for the first time, calling him out. "Derek! Come greet your big sister!"

 Stiles had never seen Derek move as fast as he did when he heard Laura's voice, even when he'd been a ghost. One second he'd been in the bedroom with the door closed, and the next he was hugging Laura like there was no tomorrow.

"I thought you were gone," he said quietly, and there were tears in his eyes. Stiles left them alone, going to the kitchen to make coffee to give them privacy. He knew it was what he would have wanted, if it had been him. They didn't join him in the kitchen for a long time. It was the first time he'd seen Derek smile since they'd come home.

"So, Derek tells me you're the only person in town stubborn enough to stay in a haunted house," Laura stated, smiling. "I guess I have to thank you. I don't think Kate would have come back here if someone hadn't been living in this house."

"Did he tell you about the times he tried to chase me out?" Stiles asked, grinning as he set cups of coffee in front of both of them. 

"He did. You're very brave to stand up to an angry werewolf," Laura told him, completely serious. "We're not exactly known for our control."

"To be fair, I didn't know that werewolves were really a thing. Derek didn't look like a werewolf, and he could hardly move boxes let alone hurt me. It's the first time my stubbornness has ever paid off," Stiles admitted.

"Still, you thought he was a ghost and you didn't run screaming. That takes guts," Laura continued, undeterred. Derek was looking down at his cup beside her, but his ears were red in embarrassment. 

"Nah. I'm nothing special," Stiles shrugged, watching Derek. He didn't notice the frustrated look that Laura gave them both.

"I'm going to go grab my bags from the rental car. I'll be in the bedroom if you need me," she grumbled. "I need to change clothes and take a shower. I hate flying."

"Yeah, sure," Stiles agreed absently. Derek had looked up and met his eyes. Laura rolled her eyes and left them alone. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's nice seeing Laura again. I never thought that I would," Derek told him. "Thank you for getting her here. Although I wish you would have told me that she was coming."

"I thought you deserved a nice surprise," Stiles told him, smiling softly. 

"Thank you," Derek said quietly. "I was thinking... since we're living together and all... would you like to have dinner together?"

It took Stiles a second to realize that Derek was trying to ask him out instead of just inviting him to share a meal in their home. As soon as he figured it out, he was grinning happily. "I'd love that," he answered, leaning in close. Derek kissed him as if he were the most important person in the world. Stiles could get used to that.

 

 

Epilogue:

 

Laura had claimed that they were too sickening to be around any longer sometime after dinner, and she'd taken her rental car to a hotel. She promised to be back in the morning and ordered them to get all of their pent up frustration out of the way before then. They were both blushing messes when she left. They had not done anything to relieve the tension that night, but they were both more relaxed around each other. They'd agreed to take everything slow, to take their time getting to know each other before just jumping in. They were both determined to make this a good relationship, not a bad decision. Of course, that didn't mean they couldn't share a bed.

Stiles couldn't fall asleep right away that night, and that's when the thought hit him. All of those knowing looks and smiles that Lydia had given him... she'd seen this whole thing coming, from that second day when Derek had shown himself to Isaac to get him to back off of Stiles. He wondered if even Isaac had suspected. Lydia had probably told him when they went home. Looking back, it seemed so obvious even to him. 

He wondered why Lydia hadn't said anything to him. She'd been telling him for a couple of years to find someone to date. She'd wanted him to be happy and in love for a while. Why wouldn't she help it along? He guessed it was because nothing would have come of it if he'd acted before Derek had been brought back. After Derek had told him that Lydia was a banshee, he'd done some research. He had a few theories of his own.

Lydia hadn't been able to sense Derek the way that Stiles had, because Derek wasn't really dead. He was just in a kind of stasis. She'd probably sensed that something big would be coming. She could have felt Stiles' possible death coming and not known that's what it was. Maybe she'd even known that it would change everything if she'd said something. Banshees were the harbingers of death, and she had to have known something. 

He rolled over to look at Derek and smiled. He wouldn't have changed anything that had happened. He was happier than he could ever remember being. He wasn't mad that Lydia hadn't told him. The only thing he'd change, if he could have gone back, was not taking the time to communicate with Derek. They'd spent so much time avoiding each other, when they could have been getting to know each other. They'd have the rest of their lives to make up for it, though. He turned back to his nightstand and grabbed his phone, dimming it so that he wouldn't disturb Derek as he sent a quick text.

 

_**To: Lydia** _

_**You knew the whole time, didn't you?** _

 

_**From: Lydia** _

_**Of course.** _

 

_**To: Lydia** _

_**… Thank you.** _

 

_**From: Lydia** _

_**You're welcome.** _

 

"What are you doing?" Derek asked tiredly, wrapping his arm around Stiles' waist and pulling him back against him. Stiles dropped his phone, but he wasn't worried about it. Anything else could wait until morning. He was finally tired.

"Nothing," Stiles assured him, letting his eyes fall closed as exhaustion finally claimed him. Yes, he was looking forward to their future.

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from a Halloween song that I've been listening to for YEARS. I was driving to work at 3:00 in the morning (WHO DOES THAT??) when it came on this morning, and the idea just popped into my head and wouldn't go away. 
> 
> And hey, I guess it cured my writer's block, so that's cool!
> 
> Song: Haunted House by Jumpin' Gene Simmons. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biTYnddPvUs


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